


Hades

by sophibug



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Assisted Suicide, Gen, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophibug/pseuds/sophibug
Summary: Sometimes, there is no way out.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	Hades

His footsteps clicked across the corridor like bone on granite. His black robe brushed against the floor. An echo whispered out into the empty hallways. He ignored it.

He came to the cells. The stench of death and fear hung around the place. He doubted it would ever leave, now, and wondered if the screams had sunk into the stones of the walls and bars of the doors. He came to the cell that was his destination, touched his wand to the door, and slipped inside.

With a whispered spell, the torch high up on the wall flared to life, illuminating the tiny room. A bed. A bucket. A set of chained shackles. And a woman.

She stared at him, her eyes wild and afraid. One of her eyes was bruised closed, and blood was matted into her dirty hair. She tried to stand, when he entered, but collapsed and scrabbled away from him. She fell back onto her elbows, legs sprawling, before pulling knees against her chest. A wound just below her collarbone oozed, and both of her breasts were covered in purple and green bruises. A mixture of shit and blood was smeared against the insides of her thighs.

He walked into the cell. A wave of his wand cleaned one end of the bed, and he sat on it. He removed his hood, revealing blond hair tied back with a black ribbon. He reached into his pocket, and the woman leaned away as he withdrew two vials, one filled with blue liquid and the other red.

He extended his hand towards the woman.

"Drink these."

She did not move.

"Drink them. It's a Calming Draught and a Pain Relief Potion. Enhanced effects to work on Muggles. Dialed back so it doesn't kill someone weakened by injury."

She crawled towards him, her eyes almost feral, reaching for the vials. She took the blue on in her hand, but her hand twitched, and it tumbled toward the stones of the floor. He caught it with a flick of his wand, and brought it to her lips.

"Drink."

She drank.

The fear in her eyes receded, a bit, to wary caution. She took a shuddering breath, and words scraped out of her mouth. "Why."

"I have some things I want to discuss."

"Who are you?"

He considered his answer. The Dark Lord's Potions Master. Death Eater. Heir of this Noble House. "I come to you with a choice," he answered, finally.

She nodded.

"You aren't getting out of here alive," he stated, flatly. "I am not here to save you. All I offer is the decision between today and next week, or the week after, or the week after that."

She made a choked noise. "Save me." She threw herself at his feet. He flinched away from her.

"Don't touch me. I am not your hero. My blood might be legitimate, but it beats with the heart of a bastard. I will not help you to my own detriment."

She withdrew back, and sobbed with dry eyes.

"So. Do you want to die today?"

She sobbed again, for interminable minutes. He sat, face blank, staring at her as she wept. Her sobs turned to wails, and still he sat, unmoving, a statue.

Finally, she quieted, and, her face stony, turned up to him. "Yes." She looked down. "How? The green light?"

"No." He withdrew a third, smaller vial from his robes. The liquid inside was light pink and had a slight shimmer to it. He held it up to the torchlight for a moment. "Pretty, I know. It will turn your blood black and kill you. You will be unconscious before you die. I cannot guarantee it is painless." He gave a flicker of a smile. "I have not been able to consult anyone on the aftermath."

He uncorked it and placed it to her lips. She began drinking it, greedily.

"I do not use the 'green spell' any longer. You have to really hate someone, to use that spell. Doesn't have to be the target, of course. I once was an expert. Now I cannot cast it at all."

She was gasping for breath, now, and her lips were beginning to take on a blue tinge.

"Thankfully, the Dark Lord doesn't have me go on raids anymore. His old Potions Master died in a battle. So none of them know I cannot cast the Killing Curse. I cannot cast the Cruciatus Curse, either. I don't hate anyone enough for that anymore. Not Muggles, not mudbloods, not the Dark Lord. You have to feel something to cast the Unforgivables."

She had fallen unconscious, her dying breaths coming shallow and fast. Her face had lost all color. The blood leaking from her open wounds was dark purple. He recovered his vial, wiped the remnants of the potion from her lips, and turned to leave. The door clicked behind him, and he locked it with a wave of his wand.

He turned back and watched her still body for a moment. "I don't feel anything, anymore."

His footsteps receded, leaving only silence.


End file.
